


The Search For Purpose

by felisblanco



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-29
Updated: 2005-08-29
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Two lonely souls... er... well, one lonely soul and one lonely soulless vampire. Coming together in 8 drabbles.





	The Search For Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a Spander drabble for [](http://kitty-poker1.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kitty-poker1.livejournal.com/)**kitty_poker1**. It was also supposed to include Willow, Tara and Buffy.
> 
> They refused to join.
> 
> It does however have a depressed Spike, a gloomy Xander and an orgasm. It's also actually 8 drabbles. Which I guess is a ficlet.
> 
> Probably not quite what you wanted, darling, but you know how it is with those fickle muses. Anyway, here is...

He hasn’t really had much time to dwell upon his situation. Been too busy trying to stay alive to actually sit down and think about what kind of life it is he’s trying to preserve. But now, tied up in this god-awful chair, having nothing but time, he’s left alone with his dark musings.

Being busy was so much better.

What is he now? What purpose does he really have in the world? A monster that brings no terror. A man who has no dignity.

Each second, each thought, brings one more drop of darkness to his mind.

He’s nothing.

\------

Every bone in his body aches, reminding him how utterly useless he is. Such a burden of stupidity. They never say it but he knows it just the same. He’s been told all his life by parents who seem to have forgotten why they decided to have him. Or maybe it’s just that he’s not the child they hoped for.

He doesn’t stop to listen to the fight upstairs, bellowing through the open windows, but unlocks the door and enters his faulty shelter. He longs for a shower. For solitude away from vampires and well-meaning friends.

Well, one wish fulfilled.

\--------

He’s so lost in the dark that he doesn’t even sense him until it’s too late. Hastily he moves to wipe his face but his hands only reach halfway. Desperate he looks up to find brown eyes staring at him.

If death was a wish he’d be dust on the grimy floor.

He tries to glare back but tears do not make a fierce face and he looks away, awaiting the mockery.

But the boy kneels by the chair, untying the ropes around his chafed limbs. He stays still though until a white tissue is thrust into his trembling hand.

\--------

He never imagined he’d feel pity for this evil creature. His hate for vampires is fierce, burning inside him, filling his mouth with the coppery taste of bloody vengeance. He might not have the skills or strength but what he has he gives to them good, each punch or kick carrying the name of his friends that have fallen, his life that is wasted, his father that he can’t hit back.

Sometimes he thinks that without this release he might burn up with rage.

But just like he could see Jesse in the thing he became, he now sees William.

\--------

He stays still, the thin tissue pressed to his eyes. He knows the boy has sharp weapons hidden under the bed but can’t bring himself to ask for death. He might be many things, (nothing, he’s nothing), but a coward he’s not.

His life is his own to take.

He’s already calculated the minutes to sunrise, when tired fingers run hesitantly through his hair. When he looks up there’s an extended hand in front of him and numb he grabs hold and allows it to pull him to his feet.

The heat radiating from the boy’s body vibrates the air.

\--------

Maybe it’s because he’s feeling so alone he’s near to tears himself. Maybe it’s because for a second he’s reminded of Jesse standing shivering and defeated, hurting from his father’s hiding that day he’d found out. Maybe it’s because deep inside he knows why he hates vampires so much. Because he remembers the coolness of Jesse’s lips almost touching his the second before he killed him. Because he wished they had. Because if anything he loved him even more as a monster and that evil truth is killing him. Maybe.

All he knows is that Spike’s lips taste like tears.

\--------

This is no kiss of love or lust or even friendship. It’s a kiss of sorrow in an embrace of grief and for a moment he’s taken back to another kiss, which was all hunger and desperation where this one is quiet and resigned. He understands it now, Angel’s departure. He could no more stay with him than Dru. Where they before fit like two pieces of a puzzle he now belongs nowhere. Is nothing.

Is it a kiss of promise or doom? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. For now it is enough that someone still needs him.

\--------

And so they cling together these two men who do not know their place in a world that is made for heroes and villains. Lips pressed against lips, fingers fighting with buttons and zippers, skin aching to touch skin. Cool meeting heat, cock meeting cock, sad loneliness replaced by urgent lust. They fall on the bed, limbs twisting, tongues entangling, hands going places they probably shouldn’t. Rubbing, thrusting, squeezing. Touching, touching, touching.

When the waves hit them they gasp in surprise, thumbs leaving prints of red on abused skin. Breathing. Holding. Lying still until the air turns quiet.

Thinking.

Hoping.

fin

 


End file.
